


Find a Place Where You Believe

by Telesilla



Series: Afterparty [2]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Asexual Character, Complicated Relationships, M/M, San Francisco Giants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"But when Tim shows up, he and Buster always go off somewhere else. I've never seen them do more than exchange..whatchamacallit...meaningful glances."</em>
</p><p>What did happen when Tim showed up at the 2014 NLCS celebration party?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find a Place Where You Believe

_October 16/17, 2014_

"I really didn't think you'd be here," Buster says as he and Tim head down the hall.

"Not like I had all that much to celebrate."

This is where Buster's supposed to be reassuring, and with anyone else, he would be. "You want some Jack?" He holds up the bottle, a little surprised when he sees how much of it is gone. 

"That depends," Tim says as he opens the door to the back bedroom. It's small and the bed is only a queen size; people rarely come in here to fuck or even crash. "Got any lighter fluid? I'd rather drink that."

Buster puts the bottle on the nightstand and opens the drawer. "There's some weed in here."

"Nah," Tim shakes his head. "It's too late...too early? Too something."

As Buster watches, Tim kicks off his shoes. He pauses for a long moment, looking down at the bed, and then, finally, pulls his hoodie off. Buster reaches for it, but Tim shakes his head. 'It's okay," he says and drops it on the floor.

Still, Buster feels totally underdressed. He's suddenly aware of himself--he hasn't got a shirt on and he smells like weed and bourbon and sex. It's funny in an ironic, not all that funny, way, because most people would expect Tim to be the one who smelled like he just came from Grateful Dead night or a particularly rowdy Orange Friday. 

"I could...I should shower," he says.

"Buster."

"Sorry." Buster sits on the bed and waits until Tim sits down and fusses with the pillows. Once he's got them just right, he settles in, leaning against the pile of pillows with his legs stretched out in front of him. His feet, Buster notices, are bare.

"C'mere," Tim says, patting his chest just below his shoulder. He puts an arm around Buster's shoulders once Buster puts his head on Tim's chest. 

They stay like that for a while, and never mind the size difference, Buster feels good like this. Safe, he thinks as something eases inside him. 

"Did you have fun with Panik tonight?"

"Yeah," Buster says with a little laugh. "I think he's gonna fit right in."

"Pun intended."

"No," Buster says. "My jokes aren't that weak."

"That's because your jokes don't exist." Tim runs his hand down Buster's back. "He's good. A little serious, but he's a good kid."

"Yeah." Buster doesn't really want to talk about Panik, though. 

"Boch'll go to you," he says, a few moments later. "During the Series."

"When? If a game goes into the nineteenth?" Tim sounds more tired than bitter and Buster sighs. He's bitter enough for the both of them--it's not like Boch hasn't trusted other guys going through rough patches. "I'm not any good right now."

Buster sighs again, because what is he supposed to say? When they're together like this, they don't lie, even to make the other feel better. "No," he finally says. "I wanna say...."

"That it'll get better."

"Yeah."

"Maybe it will, but I dunno...maybe not here."

Buster slides an arm around Tim's waist and tightens it a little. He doesn't say anything--it's obvious he hates the idea, but he's not sure Tim knows just how much. 

"It's not like I want to go," Tim says. "I haven't gone in and said, just trade me. It's just that I can't help wondering."

"Yeah," Buster says. Then, before he can help it, he adds, "Please don't."

"I won't," Tim says and Buster believes him. "But there's another option." 

He falls silent and after a little while, Buster finally has to ask. Sort of. "Hmmm?"

"Dad."

"Let me try first," Buster says and then winces. Maybe he's had too much to drink to be having this conversation.

"That," Tim says. "Is a horrible idea."

And maybe it is, but is Tim swallowing his pride and going back to Chris any better? "What if it isn't?"

"But what if it is? I don't want to end up feeling the same way about you that I do about Dad." 

"I really doubt that will happen."

"Okay, no. But think about it. Either you'd be too hard on me or not hard enough." Tim pulls Buster just a little closer; Buster can feel the warmth of Tim's skin through his thin t-shirt. "I don't want to fuck this up--you and me. Especially when you might not be able to fix me."

"Okay," Buster says, and never mind how serious this conversation is, he can't help feeling a warm little glow kindle in his stomach. This, he thinks. You and me.

"But," he says after a minute passes and Tim's still silent. "Call me. I mean during the offseason. If it gets to be too much."

"When," Tim says. "Not if."

"I mean it--call me. If you need me to come up to Seattle, I will. Or, I dunno, we can go somewhere before the season starts."

"Just like that? You'd do that...for me?"

"Tim, you know I would. Just like that." He leans back a little and looks up at Tim. "I love you."

"I know and I...I love you too, but you should be with...."

"Don't," Buster says, but Tim does anyway.

"Bum, or someone who can give you more than this."

"The hell with Bum. He came up and just assumed you 'n' me were...."

"Buster," Tim says, interrupting Buster. " _Everyone_ assumed we were."

"Yeah, well, I told him we weren't and he didn't fucking believe me." And God, this is why he didn't want Tim to say anything about Madison. Because, all these years later, it still hurts. "Maybe he wants to fuck me, but it doesn't mean shit if he doesn't trust me." Buster blinks hard. "Even Kristen believed me and she knows...how I am. She didn't even have reason to and she did."

"I'm sorry," Tim says. "I just...." He falls silent and runs his hand down Buster's back again. "You're so fucking beautiful...you're, like, perfect. You deserve someone who wants to fuck...no, to make love to you."

"God, you're a fucking idiot," Buster says. He sits up and stares at Tim. "There's a whole buncha guys out there--half a baseball team," he says and gestures toward the party. "I can have sex with any of them and yeah, it's fun. I liked fucking Joe tonight. But am I out there now or did I leave the minute you showed up?" 

Before Tim can answer, Buster shakes his head and lets out a long breath. "Seriously, you're such a moron," he says, softer this time. Sliding down the bed, he puts his head on Tim's chest again. "What did you think we're doing? Because if this isn't making love, I don't know what is."

"Oh," Tim says. 

"Yeah, oh." Buster rubs his face against Tim's t-shirt. "Of course, if you feel a need to keep telling me how beautiful and perfect I am...."

"Must be a contact high from, like, your hair." Tim's quiet for a long moment and Buster lets himself relax. "Thank you," Tim finally says, so softly Buster can barely hear him.

"Mmmm...you too."

"You sound sleepy."

"Yeah. I was wired for a while, but now...this...this is good."

"It is," Tim says. Bending down, he pulls the comforter up over them, and then pulls Buster in closer . "Get some sleep, Buster. After all, we're going to the motherfucking dance."

"Uh huh," Buster mumbles as his eyes close. "Gonna be great."

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> I've been kicking around the idea of Tim being either ace or demi and when I thought about it in the context of this series, it made perfect sense. This series is a little weird because it's partly about Joe Panik getting thoroughly debauched by his teammates and partly about this complicated dynamic between Tim, Buster and Bum. It's interesting to switch back and forth like this, though. 
> 
> Also, I had no intention of writing this today. In fact, I whined on tumblr about not being able to pick something to write and how nothing was really grabbing me. I thought I'd try some hot angst free porn and then I sat down and wrote a thing which is none of those things.


End file.
